


Lunch Break

by Cymbidia



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Begging, Bottom Clark Kent, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Roleplay, Top Bruce Wayne, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 03:37:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16233419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cymbidia/pseuds/Cymbidia
Summary: During their lunch breaks, Clark and Bruce hole up in Bruce's office and engage in a spot of roleplay.'Clark squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s almost time for your one o’clock, Mr Wayne,”'For Day 2 of Kinktober, prompt: Begging.





	Lunch Break

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's yet more office sex. There's just something irresistible to me about the two of them occupying their public identities when they're in a relatively private space. Add that to a spot of lurid secretarial roleplaying and Bruce being that exaggerated version of himself its basically if identity porn was what it sounds like it should be.

“P-please,” Clark stuttered, face flushed bright red with embarrassment. “Please, Mr Wayne.”

“Please what?” Bruce enquired politely, lifting one aristocratic brow. He was sprawled in his office chair, feet up on his desk.

Clark twisted in the exquisitely tailored suit that Bruce had bought him, shirt untucked and pants around his thighs. He was bent over the desk, his hands loosely tied behind his back with his own tie. The knot was clumsy, easy enough to slip out of if you knew what you were doing. Just the kind of knot an oversexed billionaire lech might use to restrain his secretary for a spot of lunchtime hanky panky, if he was into that kind of thing.

Clark also had a vibe in his ass that was buzzing cheerfully away. Bruce held the remote in his hand, and was experimenting with the numerous settings and strength levels, entirely without consideration for Clark’s moaning and writhing.

Clark squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s almost time for your one o’clock, Mr Wayne,” he said breathily, his core and thighs tense with the effort of holding back his orgasm.

“Hmm,” Bruce said, “I guess lunch hour really flew by.” He took his feet off the table and sat up properly, turning the vibrator on to max. The loud relentless thump of it was more than audible. If Bruce’s office wasn’t so thoroughly soundproofed, his actual secretary probably would have heard it.

“Please,” Clark gasped. His face was pressed against the polished mahogany desktop, his glasses knocked entirely askew. “Please may I come, Mr Wayne?” The colour was high on his cheeks, and his startling blue eyes were glazed with feverish desire.

“Ah ah ah,” Bruce admonished, grinning in that spoilt foppish way of his. “You know the rules. You don’t come unless it’s on my cock. I don’t pay you to get your rocks off on company time, you know.”

Clark groaned, half in arousal and half in shame. “Then fuck me already!” He demanded, then remembered himself. “Please,” he tacked on hastily.

Bruce was straining painfully in his pants, but he made sure to conceal his erection and keep up his facade of vague interest. “That wasn’t very professional of you,” Bruce said, twisting a dial to change the vibration pattern. “I think you’re forgetting who’s the boss here.”

Clark groaned again, the frustration eminent in his voice now. “Please,” he whined, “I’m sorry, Mr Wayne, I’m so sorry. I just want you so bad. I’m so open, so _wet_ , I need your cock in me so bad.”

Bruce sat forwards, rewarding Clark for being so forthcoming with a hand on his flank, stroking his trembling body with a playful, careless touch. Clark whined and leaned into the contact.

“I want your cock and not a vibe, Mr Wayne.” Clark’s eyes were squeezed close again. “There’s no toy on _earth_ as good as your cock. I want you to split me open and fuck me so hard I’ll see _stars_. I want you to come in me so much I’ll be leaking for the rest of the day. I want you to fuck me until I’m so sore I’ll have to _fly_  home. Jesus, Bruce, _please_.”

Bruce tried not to swallow too audibly. He twisted the squirming vibrator in Clark’s ass, fucking him with it a few times.

“Bruce, please,” Clark said, voice trembling with effort. “ _Please_ fuck me.”

“Well alright, you should have just asked,” Bruce relented, doing his best to sound agreeable and good-natured. Like he had no horse in this race. Like he wasn’t three seconds away from coming in his pants.

Bruce turned the vibrator and pulled it out of Clark. It came out with an agonizingly lewd squelch. Clark’s hole was open and glistening with lube. The excess coated his taint and balls, and a more natural lubricant glistened on the tip of his dick and puddled on Bruce’s desk.

Bruce stood and unzipped, trying to be leisurely about it but not succeeding in the slightest. He didn’t bother undressing, merely pushed down the sodden front of his underwear to expose his cock. He remained otherwise fully dressed and almost entirely unrumpled.

Clark whined eagerly when he heard the sound of the zip. Bruce took a moment to lube himself up, then pressed his dick against Clark’s eager entrance and pushed in.

“Yessss,” Clark hissed, pressing his face harder against the desk. “ Mr Wayne! You feel so good inside me.”

Bruce pressed his body over Clark’s, gripping Clark by the hair and biting at an exposed expanse of Clark’s neck. “You’re still so tight,” Bruce breathed. “God, what a talented little hole you have. I should keep you bent over my desk all the time. Won’t let you up even when there’s people around. Wouldn’t that be so much nicer than fetching my coffee and answering my emails all day?”

Clark groaned, and huffed out a laugh. Bruce suppressed the urge to laugh with him. Perhaps he had gotten slightly carried away with the roleplay thing. He sped up his pace in retaliation, and soon both of them forgot about anything else other than the thrust of Bruce’s cock inside of Clark and the slick drag of Clark’s cock against the smooth mahogany desk.

Clark came first, the hour of teasing paying off gratifyingly as he whined and shouted through his orgasm, twitching and shivering around Bruce, his muscles clenching alarmingly tight.

Bruce, having held off by sheer power of will, followed only a few thrusts later, burying himself to the root inside Clark and rolling his hips shallowly as he rode out the orgasm.

Bruce had the presence of mind to drag himself up and collapse back into his office chair.

“Jesus Christ,” he said, feeling dazed.

Clark slipped his hands out of the loose loop of his tie and rolled over on his back.

“Will that be all, Mr Wayne?” he enquired innocently. Bruce grunted. Clark was always so obnoxiously chipper after sex. Apparently, Kryptonians didn’t do afterglow.

Clark stretched out on the massive desk for a few moments, basking smugly, but soon abandoned Bruce to his post-coital stupor. Clark wiped them both off, got himself dressed, put away the toys, and tidied up the evidence of their tryst, all in the blink of an eye. By the time that Bruce mustered up enough will power to zip himself back up, Clark had finished knotting his tie and was attempting to comb his hair back into order.

Looking at the two of them, you’d never guess that chipper, barely flushed Clark was the one that had been whimpering away bent over a desk, while Bruce, with his blown pupils and jelly knees, had been the unflappable one teasing him.

“It’s almost one,” Clark said, checking his phone. “Don’t you have an appointment for real?”

“Yes,” Bruce said, scraping his brain cells together, “but you’re not my real secretary.”

Clark huffed out a laugh. He leaned down and pecked Bruce on the lips. “I gotta head out now if I don’t wanna be late.”

“Don’t forget to get changed before you go back in,” Bruce said.

“Yes Mr Grey,” Clark agreed obsequiously, and stepped out into the balcony.

Bruce shot up in his seat. “You take that back!” He dashed towards the balcony, but Clark was already floating up in the air. “Clark? Clark!” Bruce crossed his arms and gave Clark his best Bat-glower, but Clark simply laughed, winked, and flew away, disappearing almost instantaneously with a sonic boom.

“Fuck you, Anastasia,” Bruce muttered drily, knowing that it would be heard. He adjusted his tie and straightened his clothes. He really did have an appointment at one. The spring in his step was a lot more genuine than the usual bounciness of Brucie Wayne. He threw himself into his chair, and spun around in his seat. He felt light and silly. On the grand scale of things, sex in his office was hardly a blip compared to the rest, but doing something actually stupid and indiscreet made him feel a lot more at home whilst occupying his carefully constructed daytime persona. He and the whole office still smelt of sex, and his one o’clock would absolutely have to look into his face and ignore the fact.

Bruce put his feet up on his desk again, his mouth quirking into a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again I give you my delirious unedited 2am ramblings. Unedited or beta'ed beyond checking the red squiggles in my word processor. And I don't even use word, y'all. my WP dictionary is horrendous. I'm basically playing chicken with my typos. But at least this is significantly pornier than day one? Despite it being, you know, the ninth of October in my timezone as I post this.


End file.
